


Night coffee lovers

by kurosuisen



Category: Dunkirk (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 17:40:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12086040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurosuisen/pseuds/kurosuisen
Summary: Staying up late to keep up with all the deadlines you have is troublesome. It's good to see that your flat is not the only one with lights on at 3 a.m. and you're not the only one trying to make yourself awake with a decent dose of caffeine.





	Night coffee lovers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thrandymajestic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thrandymajestic/gifts).



> I am a coffee lover myself and staying up late is not new to me so I really don't know whether this idea came to my mind just like that or it's a result of some prompt I've seen on tumblr ages ago ;)

Night coffee lovers

He rubbed his eyes sleepily, staring at the bright screen of the computer. He wanted to sleep so desperately, but once again he had failed at writing during a day, so he had no choice, but to stay up late and do his job. The six o'clock in the morning was his deadline because it was when the issue file was send to the printing house. So he had very little time to finish the article, read it at least twice and upload it to their cloud in a printable version.

It wasn’t the first time he was such a mess about his job and it wasn’t the first time when he realized that it was already his time to go to sleep, because with every passing second the words meant less and less.  He knew that he just had to sit through hour and then he would be able to finish the article, but staying awake was a huge challenge when he started his day more than twenty hours ago. He wished he could turn back time because it wasn’t like he didn’t write his article earlier because of something important. Of course not. He was just procrastinating again.

For a moment he thought of getting some sleep, but he knew that if he would set the alarm clock two hours from then, he would turn it off with no memory of that and oversleep his deadline.

He allowed himself to yawn and rested his forehead on the desk. He had the impression that each of the graphs and tables that he used in the article was already engraved on his retinas.  When he closed his eyes, he could still see the statistics. The topic of the article – the comparison of English and German air forces equipment at the very beginning and at the end of World War II was indeed interesting, but… not in the middle of the night.

He looked at the cat sleeping on the edge of the desk. She was there since he started his writing with only one short break for a food. Gently, he caressed the ginger fur and got up, to go to the kitchen. The cat opened one eye, but seeing that the interest of his owner lasted only for a few second, she went back to sleep.

In the past he insisted that he hated coffee. He insisted that he would never touch this disgusting and bitter drink. On the first year of study he had already drunk his roommate’s coffee, and after a few years the best word to describe his relationship with coffee was… addiction. He was no gourmet. Instant, Espresso, ground coffee, latte... Anything. He would drink anything if it contained caffeine. He turned on the kettle and opened the cupboard, looking for some cookies. During his writing process he always needed something to eat. It often distracted him from writing, but without snacks he would never finish any article.

He was pouring a coffee with boiling water when the movement outside the window caught his attention. There was a motion in the kitchen window located directly opposite his flat. Neighbouring building was so close to the one he lived in so he could see that there was a man was also preparing something hot to drink.

Last time he was in the kitchen that night the man was wearing a loose sweatshirt and went through some papers.

And that time he was naked. 

Collins bit his lip, watching his tattooed body while the man was pouring a coffee to the large purple mug. He left the kitchen, leaving the steaming coffee on the windowsill and Collins couldn’t help but look at his back when he turned to door. The man was back in a minute or two, wearing a black t-shirt and boxers. And Collins was sure that they were staring at each other for at least a few seconds before he grasped his cup of coffee and left the kitchen. He spilled some coffee on the tiles, but decided that he will take care of this mess in the morning.

*

Farrier smiled with the corner of his mouth, staring at the blonde in the opposite window. Even from a distance it seemed clear that the man needed a good sleep instead of a coffee, but there they were, meeting again at three o'clock in the morning, both preparing their coffee. Surprisingly, it was probably the first time the man noticed him while Farrier made a little habit of making coffee jest when he was expecting to see the blonde again. Usually he had those sleepless nights on Wednesdays and Thursdays. He was probably living alone – it was hardly to believe that his flatmate or family would accept those night habits so easily. And Farrier had never noticed anyone else there.

The last time Farrier had seen him in the window, the blonde was going around the kitchen, probably singing something. He had a cat and the cat was watching him probably with the same doubtfulness as he did. Could he even sing? Farrier had nothing against having the excuse to find out.

The next time he saw the blonde man in the kitchen window the man seemed to forget their last encounter. This time there was a big ginger cat sitting on the windowsill and it looked as if Collins was speaking to it. Farrier sat on the kitchen counter, patiently waiting for the man to notice him. He even turned on the lighting on the cabinets, so that it could be easier to notice him.

There was only a half of the coffee left in his mug, when the man finally looked at him. Even from a distance, it was clear that he was tense. His cheeks had to be flushed so Farrier regretted that he couldn’t see it. He wondered whether it was so easy to make him flushed or it was just this unusual situation.

Farrier bowed at him and smiled. He lifted his mug to his lips to sip some coffee. Was it his imagination or the man was embarrassed? Farrier laughed aloud, amused, when the blonde left the kitchen. From his posture he could guess that the blonde was indignant at him because of this little gesture. The ginger cat jumped down from the cabinet to follow him, and a moment later the light in the kitchen was turned off. Farrier laughed because the man must had pulled his arm from behind the door not be seen by him. Farrier wished he didn’t have to get ready for work, because he was started getting curious about this man.

*

He was deeply fascinated by the man he saw and he was looking forward to see him again. Collins had no idea what he would have done if he had meet him in the grocery around, but their coffee meetings was something he was waiting for every time he had to stay late. It was their time – around three o'clock in the morning, when he was almost at the deadline for his article.

He was wondering why the man would stay up so late. Was he so bad at deadlines either? If he would tell about those meetings to his friend, Dave, he would definitely hear that the coffee man has to be some sort of psycho. And that he probably was already following him every day on his way to work. Dave, as a suspicious cop he was, would also have his files checked already.

Collins smiled when the man appeared in the kitchen. This time he was a little late and Collins didn’t have any article to write. Somehow he got to the point that he decided that meeting the man would be much more fun without the thought that he have to finish the article. He had uploaded the text to the cloud about hour ago so he was free for their meeting.

He had already had his coffee ready, when he realized that this time the man didn’t make a coffee. Instead he pulled out a bottle of alcohol from the fridge. Collins couldn’t see his face well, but he guessed there was something that made the man upset. He always seemed to be in a good mood and this time he leaned against the counter and poured a glass with a gold liquor to drink a half of it at once.

The blonde bit his lips, somehow finding himself a little concerned about the man’s mood. It took him a few seconds of thinking before he went to his room to grasp a few big sheets of paper, find a marker and go back to the kitchen. The man was still there, but his glass was already empty.

‘Though day?’ – Collins wrote on the sheets of paper and lifted them to the window, not sure whether it was possible to read this from the distance between their windows.

The man looked surprised to see the sheets of paper. He rested his hands on the cabinet and got closer to the window, probably to see the words better. He seemed to think for a moment and then he left the room for a minute to go back with a notebook. The man torn a page from it and quickly scribbled a few big letters on it.

‘Just lost a job.’

Collins was a little taken-aback that the man wrote it to him so easily as if they really knew each other. He would be more cautious about telling a stranger such a things. The blonde hoped that the other man didn’t notice his reaction.

‘Sorry to read that’ he wrote back to him, watching as the other man pour some more liquor in the glass. After a moment of hesitation he wrote on the next sheet of paper. ‘Get some sleep, please.’

Collins sighed at the way the man shrugged his arms and finished his drink. The man from the opposite window waved in his direction and Collins bowed at him. He didn’t meet him in the window for next two nights.

*

Farrier was a photographer in a new model agency and he was comfortable that way – he didn’t have to look for new commissions himself. He was hoping for his photos to be recognized thanks to work he did for the agency, but the agency bankrupted instead. He wasn’t exactly the happy about renewing some of his old contacts.

The few days that passed he had full of meetings so he went back home tired, with no strength to wait until the middle of the night to meet the blonde man again in his window. He just stopped by in the kitchen shortly before midnight to check if maybe the man was in the kitchen, but perhaps it wasn’t his time. He was only hoping that the blonde wasn’t mad at him for not appearing.

He didn’t know why he cared so much, but somehow he missed the man living in the opposite building. He wondered whether he met him some day and didn’t even realize that it was him. Maybe they used the same bus or bought the same cake in the closest bakery.

It was Thursday when he found the blonde waiting for him in the opposite window. Farrier didn’t have any reasons to stay up late except him. No new photos to retouch, no messages to reply in the middle of the night. Just the coffee and the blonde man he was so interested in. Could he have some crush on him? He barely saw his face, he barely could say anything about him, but he liked the idea of him in his mind, the idea that was getting more and more complex with every meeting.

‘Better tonight?’ there was a sheet of paper pressed against the glass and Farrier couldn’t help but smile at the question.

At first he wanted to write him back – he had a set of sheets prepared already, but he had decided to open the window instead. He was pretty sure that the blonde man was confused, but he also opened his window.

‘Better tonight!’ he shouted in the blonde’s direction. He heard a laugh and he could swear that it was the strangest laugh he had ever heard. It reminded him of squirrels laughing at some old animated series for kids. And he found this laugh unbelievably adorable.

‘Coffee then?!’ the blonde shouted back and Farrier nodded. He liked the man’s voice. And his accent. Was he Scottish? He raised up a mug of his coffee as if it he wanted to clink their cups like glasses.

Farrier had thought that the blonde man would do the same, but he quickly closed the window instead. The photographer felt a little embarrassed of his action and frowned when he noticed how the blonde is writing something again.

‘Sorry! My cat…’ said the first piece of paper and then he added another one. ‘Over-excited about open window.’

And the cat was suddenly on the windowsill, waving his tail side to side.

‘You need some window net’ he wrote back to him.

‘Don’t have a drill’

Farrier frowned at the reply and thought for a moment.

‘I do!’ he wrote a big capital letters on the paper and pressed it to the glassed.

He could swear that the blonde man was laughing and he regretted that he couldn’t hear that laugh.

*

Collins couldn’t take that man seriously when he was writing about installing a net in his flat. Even if that man repeated this at least three times. But somehow he tried to recall his voice, wondering if he had heard it somewhere around. He lived in the area for some time and it was possible that they’d met before. If he only had kitchen door, he would close it so that his cat wouldn’t be able to get close to the window – closing her in any room of the flat would make the pet destroy the door with her claw or meow so loudly that his neighbours would hate him for that.

It was almost three o'clock in the morning when he went to the kitchen to make some coffee. He just finished the article, proud that lately he was getting better and better at finishing it before the time of their little meetings.

He pulled a favorite mug out of the dryer and pulled out a can of coffee from the counter. He opened a can and swore at the sight. There was no coffee left. How could he ignore the fact when he was making a coffee earlier? On his way back from the office he was in the shop after all. He had been clearly too distracted by the man living in the opposite building. He decided to make a cup of tea, but as soon as he felt the aroma in his nostril, he made a face of disgust. At three o'clock in the morning, he did not quite have the mood for tea.

He didn’t even turn off the light in the kitchen when he went to his room pick up the first trousers and dress up. He didn’t check whether the other man was in the window already, but he didn’t think of this. Certainly he didn’t intend to spend their meeting with no decent dose of caffeine.

He grabbed his wallet and keys to run down the stairs. There had to be some open night shop in the neighbourhood. But there wasn’t. The one he thought that would be open was in fact closed.

The air outside was annoyingly cold, and the sweatshirt he was wearing wasn’t enough for the trip to the convenience store located two stops away. He slipped his hands into his pockets, feeling an unpleasant wind. The trip was a little too spontaneous, but even if cold would be the result, he didn’t intent to go back home. He needed coffee.

He walked through alley between the buildings, looking around suspiciously. He hated leaving home so late at night. The neighbourhood was said to be quite dangerous. Especially at night.

He flinched as he notice the figure of a man sitting on the bench. He could feel the man’s gaze on himself even though he was a little hidden in the shadow. He immediately tensed up ready to go using the way around. Sitting on a bench in the middle of the night was not exactly a normal thing.

He almost got a heart attack when the man spoke to him.

‘Do you fancy some coffee?’ the low husky voice nearly gave him palpitations. ‘Hey, no panic… It’s not like it would be the first coffee we drink together.’

Collins gasped at the words and bit his lips when the man stood up. The husky voice he had once heard was belonging to the man standing before him and it made him breathless for a few seconds.

‘Just a coffee?’ asked the man and made a move so that he stopped in the light of the closest lantern. It took Collins a few seconds to really recognize the man from the opposite building in the man standing before him. He looked a little older than he was and was slightly shorter. Somehow he had always imagined him as taller one. ‘Promise it’s better than the one you’re drinking.’

‘Huh?’ Collins blinked his eyes at the sight of thermal mug in his hand. ‘And what is wrong with my coffee?’

‘The fact that you drink instant coffee, maybe?’ there was a sceptical look on the man’s face.

Collins snorted at him but took the mug from him, opening it. The coffee was indeed more aromatic, but he would not admit that after the man tried to offend his way of making it.

‘How did you know that I’ll be out?’ he asked and sipped some coffee. The taste was even better than the smell.

‘Don’t know. Sixth sense?’ the man laughed, replying with a question. ‘Just thought you ran out of coffee.’

‘And you’re not trying to poison me with this coffee?’ Collins asked. After a few sips it was a little too late for this question.

‘You’re still on your feet, right?’ he laughed again and the blonde had to admit he was right. He had also to admit that he liked the way the man’s full lips carved into a smile. ‘How should I call you?’

Collins sipped a little more coffee and frowned at the question. The coffee was good. He never assessed people based on their coffee taste, but maybe he should make an exception this time.

‘Collins’ he introduced himself and reached out to shake the man’s hand. He had a warm hand and the blonde couldn’t help but clench it for a little longer that it was necessary.

‘Farrier. Good to finally meet you in a closer distance.’

‘Do you always pick up people you see from your window?’ asked Collins and smiled at him.

‘No’ the answer was short, but the man seemed a little abashed about the question. ‘You’re the first person that follows my routine and drink a coffee at three o’clock at night.’

‘I suppose that it was a compliment’ Collins made a sad face when he realized that a mug of coffee he was sipping was already empty.

‘Okay, so why don’t we go to the shop to buy you some coffee and then I’ll invite you to my place to try some real coffee with me, so that you could realize that the instant abomination you drink is nothing more than… abomination?’

 


End file.
